THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


GIFT  OF 

Gladys  Wickson 
Ida  Wickson  Thomas 
Ednah  Wickson 


> 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


Copyright 

1906 
Elbert  Hubbard 


THE    RUBAIYAT 

WELL  here  three  sad  sweet  spirits :  Perfume 

born 
Of  fading  Rose-leaves,  visions  of  The  Thorn 

Behind  each  Flower  of  Joy  in  Life's  Bouquet, 
And  one  long  Sigh  we  make  too  oft  to  scorn. 


HHAIR  perhaps  divides  the  False  and 
True;"        ' 
Or  False  or  True  thy  Verses,  we  this  due 

Of  meed  bestow  on  One  most  bitter-sweet : 
We  read  and  dream,  then  dream  and  read  anew. 

CHARLES  P.  NETTLETON. 


ADDRESS  OF  JOHN  HAY 


OMAR   KHAYYAM 

By  HON.  JOHN  HAY 

ADDRESS  DELIVERED  DECEMBER  8,  1897,  AT  THE  DINNER  OF  THE 
OMAR  KHAYYAM  CLUB,  LONDON. 

ZCAN  never  forget  my  emotions  when  1  first 
saw  FitzGerald's  translations  of  the  Quat- 
rains. Keats,  in  his  sublime  ode  on  Chap- 
man's Homer  has  described  the  sensation 
once  for  all: 

Then  felt  I  like  some  watcher  of  the  skies 
When  a  new  planet  swims  into  his  ken. 

The  exquisite  beauty,  the  faultless  form,  the  singular 
grace  of  those  amazing  stanzas  were  not  more  won- 
derful than  the  depth  and  breadth  of  their  profound 
philosophy,  their  knowledge  of  life,  their  dauntless 
courage,  their  serene  facing  of  the  ultimate  problems 


of  life  and  death.  Of  course  the  doubt  did  not  spare 
me,  which  has  assailed  many  as  ignorant  as  I  was  of 
the  literature  of  the  East,  whether  it  was  the  poet  or 
the  translator  to  whom  was  due  this  splendid  result. 
Was  it,  in  fact,  a  reproduction  of  an  antique  song,  or 
the  mystification  of  a  great  modern,  careless  of  fame 
and  scornful  of  his  time?  Could  it  be  possible  that  in 
the  Eleventh  Century,  so  far  away  as  Khorassan,  so 
accomplished  a  man  of  letters  lived,  with  such  dis- 
tinction, such  breadth,  such  insight,  such  calm  disillu- 
sions, such  cheerful  and  jocund  despair?  Was  this 
'  Weltschmerz,"  which  we  thought  a  malady  of  our 
day,  endemic  in  Persia  in  1  1 00  ?  My  doubt  only 
lasted  till  I  came  upon  a  literal  translation  of  the 
Rubaiyat,  and  I  saw  that  not  the  least  remarkable 
quality  of  FitzGerald's  poem  was  its  fidelity  to  the 
ii 


original.  Qln  short,  Omar  was  a  FitzGerald,  or 
FitzGerald  was  a  reincarnation  of  Omar.  It  is  not  to 
the  disadvantage  of  the  latter  poet  that  he  followed 
so  closely  in  the  footsteps  of  the  earlier.  A  man  of 
extraordinary  genius  had  appeared  in  the  world, 
had  sung  a  song  of  incomparable  beauty  and  power 
in  an  environment  no  longer  worthy  of  him,  in  a 
language  of  narrow  range ;  for  many  generations  the 
song  was  virtually  lost ;  then  by  a  miracle  of  creation, 
a  poet,  a  twin-brother  in  the  spirit  to  the  first,  was  born, 
who  took  up  the  forgotten  poem  and  sang  it  anew 
with  all  its  original  melody  and  force,  and  all  the 
accumulated  refinement  of  ages  of  art.  It  seems  to  me 
idle  to  ask  which  was  the  greater  master;  each  seems 
greater  than  his  work.  The  song  is  like  an  instrument 
of  precious  workmanship  and  marvelous  tone,  which 


is  worthless  in  common  hands,  but  when  it  falls,  at 
long  intervals,  into  the  hands  of  the  supreme  master, 
it  yields  a  melody  of  transcendent  enchantment  to  all 
that  have  ears  to  hear.  If  we  look  at  the  sphere  of 
influence  of  the  two  poets,  there  is  no  longer  any 
comparison.  Omar  sang  to  a  half  barbarous  province ; 
FitzGerald  to  the  world.  Wherever  the  English 
speech  is  spoken  or  read,  the  Rubaiyat  have  taken 
their  place  as  a  classic.  There  is  not  a  hill-post  in 
India,  nor  a  village  in  England,  where  there  is  not 
a  coterie  to  whom  Omar  Khayyam  is  a  familiar 
friend  and  a  bond  of  union.  In  America  he  has  an 
equal  following,  in  many  regions  and  conditions.  In 
the  Eastern  States  his  adepts  form  an  esoteric  sect ; 
the  beautiful  volume  of  drawings  by  Mr.  Vedder,  is 
a  center  of  delight  and  suggestion  wherever  it  exists, 
iv 


In  the  cities  of  the  West  you  will  find  the  Quatrains 
one  of  the  most  thoroughly  read  books  in  any  club 
library.  I  heard  them  quoted  once  in  one  of  the  most 
lonely  and  desolate  spots  of  the  high  Rockies.  We 
had  been  camping  on  the  Great  Divide,  our  "  roof  of 
the  world,"  where  in  the  space  of  a  few  feet  you 
may  see  two  springs,  one  sending  its  waters  to  the 
Polar  solitudes,  the  other  to  the  eternal  Carib  summer. 
One  morning  at  sunrise,  as  we  were  breaking  camp, 
I  was  startled  to  hear  one  of  our  party,  a  frontiers- 
man born,  intoning  these  words  of  sombre  majesty : 

T  is  but  a  Tent  where  takes  his  one  day's  rest 
A  Sultan  to  the  realm  of  Death  addrest; 
The  Sultan  rises,  and  the  dark  Ferrash 
Strikes,  and  prepares  it  for  another  Guest. 

I  thought  that  sublime  setting  of  primeval  forest  and 


pouring  canyon  was  worthy  of  the  lines;  I  am  sure 
the  dewless,  crystalline  air  never  vibrated  to  strains 
of  more  solemn  music.  Certainly,  our  poet  can  never 
be  numbered  among  the  great  popular  writers  of  all 
time.  He  has  told  no  story ;  he  has  never  unpacked 
his  heart  in  public ;  he  has  never  thrown  the  reins  on 
the  neck  of  the  winged  horse,  and  let  his  imagination 
carry  him  where  it  listed.  "Ah !  the  crowd  must  have 
emphatic  warrant,"  as  Browning  sang.  Its  suffrages 
are  not  for  the  cool,  collected  observer,  whose  eyes 
no  glitter  can  dazzle,  no  mist  suffuse.  The  many  can- 
not but  resent  that  air  of  lofty  intelligence,  that  pale 
and  subtle  smile.  But  he  will  hold  a  place  for- 
ever among  that  limited  number  who,  like  Lucretius 
and  Epicurus — without  rage  or  defiance,  even  with- 
out unbecoming  mirth, — look  deep  into  the  tangled 
vi 


mysteries  of  things;  refuse  credence  to  the  absurd, 
and  allegiance  to  arrogant  authority ;  sufficiently  con- 
scious of  fallibility  to  be  tolerant  of  all  opinions ;  with 
a  faith  too  wide  for  doctrine  and  a  benevolence 
untrammeled  by  creed;  too  wise  to  be  wholly  poets, 
and  yet  too  surely  poets  to  be  implacably  wise. 


Vll 


THE   RUBAIYAT 


For  the  Sun  who  scattered 
into  flight 
The  Stars  before  him  from  the 

Field  of  Night, 
Drives  Night  along  with  them  from  Heav'n,  and 

strikes 
The  Sultan's  Turret  with  a  Shaft  of  Light. 

II 

EFORE  the  phantom  of  False  morning  died, 
Methought  a  Voice  within  the  Tavern  cried, 
'  When  all  the  Temple  is  prepared  within, 
Why  nods  the  drowsy  Worshipper  outside." 


25 


Ill 


HND  as  the  Cock  crew,  those  who  stood  before 
The  Tavern  shouted — "Open  then  the  Door ! 
You  know  how  little  while  we  have  to  stay, 
And  once  departed,  may  return  no  more." 


IV 


the  New  Year  reviving  old  Desires, 
The  thoughtful  Soul  to  Solitude  retires, 
Where  the  White  Hand  of  Moses  on  the  Bough 
Puts  out,  and  Jesus  from  the  Ground  suspires. 


26 


I  RAM  indeed  is  gone  with  all  his  Rose, 
And  Jamshyd's  Sev'n-ring'd  Cup  where  no 

one  knows; 

But  still  a  Ruby  kindles  in  the  Vine, 
And  many  a  Garden  by  the  Water  blows. 


VI 


HND  David's  lips  are  lockt ;  but  in  divine 
High-piping  Pehlevi,  with  "Wine!  Wine! 

Wine! 

Red  Wine!" — the  Nightingale  cries  to  the  Rose 
That  sallow  cheek  of  hers  to'  incarnadine. 

27 


VII 


OOME,  fill  the  Cup,  and  in  the  fire  of  Spring 
Your  Winter-Garment  of  Repentance  fling: 
The  Bird  of  Time  has  but  a  little  way 
To  flutter — and  the  Bird  is  on  the  Wing. 


VIII 

HETHER  at  Naishapur  or  Babylon, 
Whether  the  Cup  with  sweet  or  bitter  run, 
The  Wine  of  Life  keeps  oozing  drop  by  drop, 
The  Leaves  of  Life  keep  falling  one  by  one. 


28 


IX 


ACH  Morn  a  thousand  Roses  brings,  you  say; 
Yes,  but  where  leaves  the  Rose  of  Yesterday  ? 
And  this  first  Summer  month  that  brings  the  Rose 
Shall  take  Jamshyd  and  Kaikobad  away. 


ELL,  let  it  take  them!  What  have 

we  to  do 
With  Kaikobad  the  Great,  or  Kaikhosru? 

Let  Zal  and  Rustum  bluster  as  they  will, 
Or  Hatim  call  to  Supper — heed  not  you. 

29 


XI 


ITH  me  along  the  strip  of  Herbage  strown 
That  just  divides  the  desert  from  the  sown, 
Where  the  name  of  Slave  and  Sultan  is  forgot — 
And  Peace  to  Mahmud  on  his  golden  Throne ! 


XII 


HBOOK  of  Verses  underneath  the  Bough, 
A  Jug  of  Wine,  a  Loaf  of  Bread — and  Thou 
Beside  me  singing  in  the  Wilderness — 
Oh,  Wilderness  were  Paradise  enow ! 


30 


XIII 

OME  for  the  Glories  of  This  World;  and  some 
Sigh  for  the  Prophet's  Paradise  to  come ; 
Ah,  take  the  Cash,  and  let  the  Credit  go, 
Nor  heed  the  rumble  of  a  distant  Drum ! 


XIV 


*•   ""^.OOK  to  the  blowing  Rose  about  us — "Lo, 
_p  ^J    Laughing,"  she  says,  "  into  the  world  I  blow, 

At  once  the  silken  tassel  of  my  Purse 
Tear,  and  its  Treasure  on  the  Garden  throw." 


31 


XV 


those  who  husbanded  the  Golden  grain, 
And  those  who  flung  it  to  the  winds  like 

Rain, 

Alike  to  no  such  aureate  Earth  are  turn'd 
As,  buried  once,  Men  want  dug  up  again. 


XVI 


Worldly  Hope  men  set  their  Hearts  upon 
Turns  Ashes — or  it  prospers;  and  anon, 
Like  Snow  upon  the  Desert's  dusty  Face, 
Lighting  a  little  hour  or  two — was  gone. 


32 


XVII 

in  this  batter'd  Caravanserai 
Whose  Portals  are  alternate  Night  and  Day, 
How  Sultan  after  Sultan  with  his  Pomp 
Abode  his  destin'd  Hour,  and  went  his  way. 


XVIII 

say  the  Lion  and  the  Lizard  keep 
The  Courts  where  Jamshyd  gloried  and 

drank  deep: 

And  Bahram,  that  great  Hunter — the  Wild  Ass 
Stamps  o'er  his  Head,  but  cannot  break  his  Sleep. 

33 


XIX 


Z  SOMETIMES  think  that  never  blows  so  red 
The  Rose  as  where  some  buried  Caesar  bled ; 
That  every  Hyacinth  the  Garden  wears 
Dropt  in  her  Lap  from  some  once  lovely  Head. 


XX 


HND  this  reviving  Herb  whose  tender  Green 
Fledges  the  River-Lip  on  which  we  lean — 
Ah,  lean  upon  it  lightly!  for  who  knows 
From  what  once  lovely  Lip  it  springs  unseen ! 


34 


XXI 


~J  |"H,  MY  Beloved,  fill  the  Cup  that  clears 
W_  M^  To-day  of  past  Regrets  and  future  Fears: 

To-morrow! — Why,  To-morrow  I  may  be 
Myself  with  Yesterday's  Sev'n  thousand  Years. 


XXII 


•    f"OR  some  we  loved,  the  loveliest  and  the  best 
^    \  That  from  his  Vintage  rolling  Time  hathprest, 

Have  drunk  their  Cup  a  Round  or  two  before, 
And  one  by  one  crept  silently  to  rest. 


35 


XXIII 

ND  we,  that  now  make  merry  in  the  Room 
They  left,  and  Summer  dresses  in  new  bloom, 
Ourselves  must  we  beneath  the  Couch  of  Earth 
Descend — ourselves  to  make  a  Coucli — for  whom? 


XXIV 

HH,  MAKE  the  most  of  what  we  yet  may 
spend, 
Before  we  too  into  the  Dust  descend ; 

Dust  into  Dust,  and  under  Dust,  to  lie, 
Sans  Wine,  sans  Song,  sans  Singer,  and — sans  End ! 
36 


XXV 


HLIKE  for  those  who  for  To-day  prepare, 
And  those  that  after  some  To-morrow  stare, 
A  Muezzin  from  the  Tower  of  Darkness  cries, 
"Fools!  your  Reward  is  neither  Here  nor  There." 


XXVI 

HY,  all  the  Saints  and  Sages    who 

discuss'd 
Of  the  Two  Worlds  so  wisely — they  are  thrust 

Like  foolish  Prophets  forth ;  their  Words  to  Scorn 
Are  scatter'd,  and  their  Mouths  are  stopt  with  Dust. 

37 


XXVII 

f  V  ^ YSELF  when  young  did  eagerly  frequent 
*  *  ^  Doctor  and  Saint,  and  heard  great 

argument 

About  it  and  about :  but  evermore 
Came  out  by  the  same  door  where  in  I  went. 


XXVIII 


ITH  them  the  seed  of  Wisdom  did  I  sow, 
And  with  mine  own  hand  wrought  to 

make  it  grow; 

And  this  was  all  the  Harvest  that  1  reap'd — 
I  came  like  Water,  and  like  Wind  I  go." 
38 


XXIX 


INTO  this  Universe,  and  Why  not  knowing 
Nor  Whence,  like  Water  willy-nilly  flowing ; 
And  out  of  it,  as  Wind  along  the  Waste, 
I  know  not  Whither,  willy-nilly  blowing. 


XXX 

•'.•.-.•''  } 

WW  ^€HAT,  without  asking,  hither  hurried 

\A/         Whence? 
And  without  asking,  Whither  hurried  hence ! 

Oh,  many  a  Cup  of  this  forbidden  Wine 
Must  drown  the  memory  of  that  insolence ! 

39 


XXXI 

FROM  Earth's  Centre  through  the 

Seventh  Gate 
I  rose  and  on  the  Throne  of  Saturn  sate, 

And  many  a  Knot  unravel'd  by  the  Road ; 
But  not  the  Master-Knot  of  Human  Fate. 


XXXII 

was  the  Door  to  which  I  found  no 
Key;  _ 

There  was  the  Veil  thro'  which  I  might  not  see : 

Some  little  talk  awhile  of  Me  and  Thee 
There  was — and  then  no  more  of  Thee  and  Me. 
40 


XXXIII 

ARTH  could  not  answer;  nor  the  Seas  that 

mourn 
In  flowing  Purple,  of  their  Lord  forlorn ; 

Nor  rolling  Heaven,  with  all  his  Signs  reveal'd 
And  hidden  by  the  sleeve  of  Night  and  Morn. 


XXXIV 

of  the  Thee  in  Me  who  works  behind 
The  Veil,  I  lifted  up  my  hands  to  find 
A  Lamp  amid  the  Darkness ;  and  I  heard, 
As  from  Without— 'The  Me  within  Thee  blind!" 


41 


XXXV 


HEN  to  the  Lip  of  this  poor  earthen  Urn 
I  lean'd,  the  Secret  of  my  Life  to  learn : 
And  Lip  to  Lip  it  murmur'd — "  While  you  live, 
Drink ! — for,  once  dead,  you  never  shall  return." 


XXXVI 


I  THINK  the  Vessel,  that  with  fugitive 
Articulation  answer'd,  once  did  live, 
And  drink ;  and  Ah !  the  passive  Lip  I  kiss'd, 
How  many  Kisses  might  it  take — and  give! 


XXXVII 


"TOR  1  remember  stopping  by  the  way 
^F  7*  To  watch  a  Potter  thumping  his  wet  Clay : 

And  with  its  all-obliterated  Tongue 
It  murmur'd — "Gently,  Brother,  gently,  pray!*' 


XXXVIII 

HND  has  not  such  a  Story  from  of  Old 
Down  Man's  successive  generations  roll'd 
Of  such  a  clod  of  saturated  Earth 
Cast  by  the  Maker  into  Human  mould  ? 


43 


XXXIX 


HND  not  a  drop  that  from  our  Cups  we 
throw 
For  Earth  to  drink  of,  but  may  steal  below 

To  quench  the  fire  of  Anguish  in  some  Eye 
There  hidden  —  far  beneath,  and  long  ago. 


XL 


5  THEN  the  Tulip  for  her  morning  sup 
Of  Heav'nly  Vintage  from  the  soil 

looks  up, 

Do  you  devoutly  do  the  like,  till  Heav'n 
To  Earth  invert  you — like  an  empty  Cup. 
44 


XLI 


no  more  with  Human  or  Divine, 
To-morrow's  tangle  to  the  winds  resign, 
And  lose  your  fingers  in  the  tresses  of 
The  Cyprus-slender  Minister  of  Wine. 


XLII 

HND  if  the  Wine  you  drink,  the  Lip  you 
press, 
End  in  what  All  begins  and  ends  in — Yes ; 

Think  then  you  are  To-day  what  Yesterday 
You  were — To-morrow  you  shall  not  be  less. 

45 


XLIII 


WHEN  the  Angel  of  the  darker  Drink 
At  last  shall  find  you  by  the  river-brink, 
And  offering  his  Cup,  invite  your  Soul 
Forth  to  your  Lips  to  quaff — you  shall  not  shrink. 


XLIV 

m mi  ^  HY,  if  the  Soul  can  fling  the  Dust  aside, 

^^^/    And  naked  on  the  Air  of  Heaven  ride, 

Were ' t  not  a  Shame — were  *t  not  a  Shame  for 

him 

In  this  clay  carcase  crippled  to  abide? 
46 


XLV 

IS  but  a  Tent  where  takes  his  one  day's  rest, 

Sultan  to  the  realm  of  Death  addrest ; 
The  Sultan  rises,  and  the  dark  Ferrash 
Strikes,  and  prepares  it  for  another  Guest. 


XLVI 

ND  fear  not  lest  Existence  closing  your 
Account,  and  mine,  should  know  the  like 

no  more ; 

The  Eternal  Saki  from  that  Bowl  has  pour'd 
Millions  of  Bubbles  like  us,  and  will  pour. 

47 


XLVII 

You  and  I  behind  the  Veil  are  past, 
Oh,  but  the  long,  long  while  the  World 

shall  last, 

Which  of  our  Coming  and  Departure  heeds 
As  the  Sea's  self  should  heed  a  pebble-cast. 


XLVIII 


H  MOMENT'S  Halt— a  momentary  taste 
Of  Being  from  the  Well  amid  the  Waste— 
And  Lo ! — the  phantom  Caravan  has  reacht 
The  Nothing  it  set  out  from — Oh,  make  haste ! 


48 


XLIX 

OULD  you  that  spangle  of  Existence 

spend 
About  the  secret — quick  about  it,  Friend ! 

A  Hair  perhaps  divides  the  False  and  True — 
And  upon  what,  prithee,  does  life  depend  ? 


HHAIR  perhaps  divides  the  False  and  True; 
Yes ;  and  a  single  Alif  -were  the  clue — 
Could  you  but  find  it — to  the  Treasure-house, 
And  peradventure  to  The  Master  too ; 


49 


TO 


LI 
HOSE  secret  Presence,  through  Creation's 


veins 
Running  Quicksilver-like  eludes  your  pains ; 

Taking  all  shapes  from  Mah  to  Mahi ;  and 
They  change  and  perish  all — but  He  remains ; 


LII 

MOMENT  guess'd— then  back  behind 

the  Fold 
Immerst  of  Darkness  round  the  Drama  roll'd 

Which,  for  the  Pastime  of  Eternity, 
He  doth  Himself  contrive,  enact,  behold. 
50 


LIII 

UT  if  in  vain,  down  on  the  stubborn  floor 
Of  Earth,  and  up  to  Heav'n's  unopening 

Door, 

You  gaze  To-day,  while  You  are  You — how  then 
To-morrow,  when  You  shall  be  You  no  more  ? 


LIV 

ASTE  not  your  Hour,  nor  in  the  vain 

pursuit 

Of  This  and  That  endeavour  and  dispute ; 
Better  be  jocund  with  the  fruitful  Grape 
Than  sadden  after  none,  or  bitter,  Fruit. 

51 


LV 


know,  my  Friends,  with  what  a  brave 

Carouse 
I  made  a  Second  Marriage  in  my  house ; 

Divorced  old  barren  Reason  from  my  Bed, 
And  took  the  Daughter  of  the  Vine  to  Spouse. 


LVI 

TJOR  "Is"  and  "Is-not"  though  with  Rule 

Jp     *         and  Line, 

And  "Up-and-down"  by  Logic  I  define, 

Of  all  that  one  should  care  to  fathom,  1 
Was  never  deep  in  anything  but — Wine. 
52 


LVII 

'  J  fH,  BUT  my  Computations,  People  say, 
W^  M  JReduced  the  Year  to  better  reckoning?— 

Nay, 

*T  was  only  striking  from  the  Calendar 
Unborn  To-morrow,  and  dead  Yesterday. 


LVIII 

HND  lately  by  the  Tavern  Door  agape, 
Came  shining  through  the  Dusk  an  Angel 

Shape 

Bearing  a  Vessel  on  his  Shoulder ;  and 
He  bid  me  taste  of  it ;  and  't  was — the  Grape ! 

53 


LIX 


Grape  that  can  with  Logic  absolute 
The  Two-and-Seventy  jarring  Sects  confute 
The  sovereign  Alchemist  that  in  a  trice 
Life's  leaden  metal  into  Gold  transmute : 


LX 


mighty  Mahmud,  Allah-breathing  Lord, 
That  all  the  misbelieving  and  black  Horde 
Of  Fears  and  Sorrows  that  infest  the  Soul 
Scatters  before  him  with  his  whirlwind  Sword. 


54 


LXI 

HY,  be  this  Juice  the  growth  of  God, 

who  dare 
Blaspheme  the  twisted  tendril  as  a  Snare  ? 

A  Blessing,  we  should  use  it,  should  we  not  ? 
And  if  a  Curse — why,  then,  Who  set  it  there? 


LXII 


TT'  MUST  abjure  the  Balm  of  Life,  I  must, 

^M     Scared  by  some  After-reckoning  ta'en  on  trust, 

Or  lured  with  Hope  of  some  Diviner  Drink, 
To  fill  the  Cup — when  crumbled  into  Dust ! 


55 


LXIII 

O  THREATS  of  Hell  and  Hopes  of  Paradise! 
One  thing  at  least  is  certain — This  Life 

flies; 

One  thing  is  certain  and  the  rest  is  Lies ; 
The  Flower  that  once  has  blown  for  ever  dies. 


LXIV 

0  TRANCE,  is  it  not?  that  of  the  myriads  who 
Before  us  pass'd  the  door  of  Darkness 

through, 
Not  one  returns  to  tell  us  of  the  Road, 

Which  to  discover  we  must  travel  too. 
56 


LXV 

HE  Revelations  of  Devout  and  Learn'd 
Who  rose  before  us,  and  as  Prophets  burn'd, 
Are  all  but  Stories,  which,  awoke  from  Sleep 
They  told  their  comrades,  and  to  Sleep  return'd. 


LXVI 


I  SENT  my  Soul  through  the  Invisible 
Some  letter  of  that  After-life  to  spell ; 
And  by  and  by  my  Soul  return'd  to  me, 
And  answer'd  "I  Myself  am  Heav'n  and  Hell:" 


57 


LXVII 

EEAV'N  but  the  Vision  of  fulfill'd  Desire, 
And  Hell  the  Shadow  from  a  Soul  on  fire 
Cast  on  the  Darkness  into  which  Ourselves, 
So  late  emerg'd  from,  shall  so  soon  expire. 


LXVIII 

E  ARE  no  other  than  a  moving  row 
Of  Magic  Shadow-shapes  that  come  and 

go 

Round  with  the  Sun-illumin'd  Lantern  held 
In  Midnight  by  the  Master  of  the  Show ; 

58 


LXIX 

iLJT  helpless  Pieces  of  the  Game  He  plays 
Upon  this  Chequer-board  of  Nights  and 

Days; 

Hither  and  thither  moves,  and  checks,  and  slays, 
And  one  by  one  back  in  the  Closet  lays. 


LXX 

Ball  no  question  makes  of  Ayes  and 
Noes, 
But  Here  or  There  as  strikes  the  Player  goes ; 

And  He  that  toss'd  you  down  into  the  Field, 
He  knows  about  it  all — He  knows — He  knows ! 

59 


LXXI 


Moving  Finger  writes;  and  having  writ, 
Moves  on :  nor  all  your  Piety  nor  Wit 
Shall  lure  it  back  to  cancel  half  a  Line, 
Nor  all  your  Tears  wash  out  a  Word  of  it. 


LXXII 

that  inverted  Bowl  they  call  the  Sky, 
Whereunder  crawling  coop'd  we  live  and 

die, 

Lift  not  your  hands  to  It  for  help — for  It 
As  impotently  moves  as  you  or  I. 
60 


LXXIII 

ITH  Earth's  first  Clay  They  did  the  Last 

Man  knead, 
And  there  of  the  Last  Harvest  sow'd  the  Seed : 

And  the  first  Morning  of  Creation  wrote 
What  the  Last  Dawn  of  Reckoning  shall  read. 


LXXIV 

ESTERDAY  This  Day  s  Madness  did     | 

prepare ; 
To-Morrow's  Silence,  Triumph,  or  Despair: 

Drink!  for  you  know  not  whence  you  came,  nor  why: 
Drink!  for  you  know  not  why  you  go,  nor  where. 

61 


LXXV 


ZTELL  you  this — When,  started  from  the 
Goal, 
Over  the  flaming  shoulders  of  the  Foal 

Of  Heav'n  Parwin  and  Mushtari  they  flung, 
In  my  predestin'd  Plot  of  Dust  and  Soul. 


LXXVI 

HE  Vine  had  struck  a  fibre :  which  about 
If  clings  my  Being — let  the  Dervish  flout ; 
Of  my  Base  metal  may  be  filed  a  Key, 
That  shall  unlock  the  Door  he  howls  without. 


62 


LXXVII 

HND  this  I  know:  whether  the  one  True 
Light  Ma** 

Kindle  to  Love,  or  Wrath  consume  me  quite, 
One  Flash  of  It  within  the  Tavern  caught 
Better  than  in  the  Temple  lost  outright. 


LXXVIII 

HAT !  out  of  senseless  Nothing  to  provoke 
A  conscious  Something  to  resent  the 

yoke 

Of  unpermitted  Pleasure,  under  pain 
Of  Everlasting  Penalties,  if  broke ! 

63 


LXXIX 

HAT !  from  his  helpless  Creature  be 

repaid 
Pure  Gold  for  what  he  lent  him  dross-allay'd — 

Sue  for  a  Debt  we  never  did  contract, 
And  cannot  answer — Oh  the  sorry  trade ! 


LXXX 

OTHOU,  who  didst  with  pitfall  and  with  gin 
Beset  the  Road  I  was  to  wander  in, 
Thou  wilt  not  with  Predestin'd  Evil  round 
Enmesh,  and  then  impute  my  Fall  to  Sin ! 


64 


LXXXI 

OH  THOU,  who  Man  of  baser  Earth  didst 
^  J!      make, 
And  ev'n  with  Paradise  devise  the  Snake: 

For  all  the  Sin  wherewith  the  Face  of  Man 
Is  blacken'd — Man's  forgiveness  give — and  take! 


LXXXII 


"  J  ITS  UNDER  cover  of  departing  Day 
W_  M^  Slunk  hunger-stricken  Ramazan  away, 

Once  more  within  the  Potter's  house  alone 
I  stood,  surrounded  by  the  Shapes  of  Clay. 


65 


LXXXIII 

•HAPES  of  all  Sorts  and  Sizes,  great  and 

small, 

lat  stood  along  the  floor  and  by  the  wall; 
And  some  loquacious  Vessels  were;  and  some 
Listen'd  perhaps,  but  never  talk'd  at  all. 


LXXXIV 


ID  one  among  them — "Surely  not  in  vain 
My  substance  of  the  common  Earth  was  ta'en 
aid  to  this  Figure  moulded,  to  be  broke, 
Or  trampled  back  to  shapeless  Earth  again." 


66 


LXXXV 

said  a  Second— "Ne'er  a  peevish  Boy 
Would  break  the  Bowl  from  which  he  drank 

in  joy; 

And  He  that  with  His  hand  the  Vessel  made 
Will  surely  not  in  after  Wrath  destroy." 


LXXXVI 

HFTER  a  momentary  silence  spake 
Some  Vessel  of  a  more  ungainly  Make; 
'They  sneer  at  me  for  leaning  all  awry: 
What!  did  the  Hand  then  of  the  Potter  shake?" 


67 


LXXXVII 

HEREAT  some  one  of  the  loquacious 
Lot- 

I  think  a  Sufi  pipkin — waxing  hot — 

"  All  this  of  Pot  and  Potter— Tell  me  then, 
Who  is  the  Potter,  pray,  and  who  the  Pot?" 


LXXXVIII 

said  another,  "Some  there  are  who 


Of  one  who  threatens  he  will  toss  to  Hell 

The  luckless  Pots  he  marr'd  in  making  —  Pish! 
He's  a  Good  Fellow,  and  't  will  all  be  well." 
68 


LXXXIX 
,"  murmur'd  one,  "  Let  whoso  make 

°r  kuy, 

My  Clay  with  long  Oblivion  is  gone  dry: 
But  fill  me  with  the  old  familiar  Juice, 
Methinks  I  might  recover  by  and  by." 


XC 


WHILE  the  Vessels  one  by  one  were 

speaking, 
The  little  Moon  look'd  in  all  that  were  seeking: 

And  then  they  jogg'd  each  other,  "Brother!  Brother! 
Now  for  the  Porter's  shoulder-knot  a-creaking!" 

69 


XCI 

,  WITH  the  Grape  my  fading  Life 

provide, 
And  wash  the  Body  whence  the  Life  has  died, 

And  lay  me,  shrouded  in  the  living  Leaf, 
By  some  not  unfrequented  Garden-side. 


XCII 

ev'n  my  buried  Ashes  such  a  snare 
Of  Vintage  shall  fling  up  into  the  Air 
As  not  a  True-believer  passing  by 
But  shall  be  overtaken  unaware. 


70 


XCIII 

INDEED  the  Idols  I  have  loved  so  long 
Have  done  my  credit  in  this  World  much 

wrong: 

Have  drown'd  my  Glory  in  a  shallow  Cup, 
And  sold  my  Reputation  for  a  Song. 


XCIV 

XNDEED,  indeed,  Repentance  oft  before 
I  swore — but  was  I  sober  when  I  swore? 
And  then  and  then  came  Spring,  and  Rose-in- 
hand 
My  thread-bare  Penitence  apieces  tore. 

71 


xcv 

much  as  Wine  has  play'd  the  Infidel, 
And  robb'd  me  of  my  Robe  of  Honour — 

Well, 

I  wonder  often  what  the  Vintners  buy 
One  half  so  precious  as  the  stuff  they  sell. 


XCVI 

TfTTET  Ah,  that  Spring  should  vanish  with  the 
fe^  Rose!       ; 

That  Youth's  sweet-scented  manuscript  should  close! 

The  Nightingale  that  in  the  branches  sang, 
Ah  whence  and  whither  flown  again,  who  knows! 
72 


XCVII 

*  WV  \  OULD  but  the  Desert  of  the  Fountain 
\A/  yield  ^;r^>  r 

One  glimpse — if  dimly,  yet  indeed,  reveal'd, 

To  which  the  fainting  Traveller  might  spring, 
As  springs  the  trampled  herbage  of  the  field! 


XCVIII 

WW^l  OULD  but  some  winged  Angel  ere  too 
\A/          late 
Arrest  the  yet  unfolded  Roll  of  Fate, 

And  make  the  stern  Recorder  otherwise 
Enregister,  or  quite  obliterate! 

73 


XCIX 

HH  LOVE!  could  you  and  I  with  Him 
conspire 

To  grasp  this  sorry  Scheme  of  Things  entire, 
Would  not  we  shatter  it  to  bits — and  then 
Re-mould  it  nearer  to  the  Heart's  Desire! 


ON  rising  Moon  that  looks  for  us  again— 
How  oft  hereafter  will  she  wax  and  wane; 
low  oft  hereafter  rising  look  for  us 
Through  this  same  Garden — and  for  one  in  vain ! 


CI 


HND  when  like  her,  oh  Saki,  you  shall  pass 
Among  the  Guests  Star-scatter'd  on  the 

Grass, 

And  in  your  joyous  errand  reach  the  spot 
Where  I  made  One — turn  down  an  empty  Glass! 


SO  HERE  ENDETH  THE  RUBA1YAT  OF  OMAR 
KHAYYAM,  AS  TRANSLATED  INTO  ENGLISH 
BY  EDWARD  FITZGERALD  AND  DONE  INTO 
A  PRINTED  BOOK  BY  THE  ROYCROFTERS,  AT 
THEIR  SHOP  IN  EAST  AURORA.  WHICH  IS  IN 
ERIE  COUNTY,  NEW  YORK,  IN  APRIL,  MCMVI 


ROYCR0FT 


